A Father's Dreams
by Amity Bell
Summary: Companion to A Father's Love. Rowen's father considers his dreams and recent events in his life.


A/N: It's been quite the length of time since I last wrote fanfiction. I would blame being busy, but no, that's just the way I am. I thought rather randomly of my old fanfic A Father's Love this past week, and reread both it and its reviews. I was touched again by those thoughts, from both friends and acquaintances. I hope you're still active, Firekitsune, and that you take the time to read this while on hiatus, Tex-chan. This one's for the two of you. I did not write this at home, and so the style is not meant to emulate that of A Father's Love, but the bug that had been floating around my subconscious finally laid its claws into my mind at 2 in the morning, forcing me to leave my husband and our warm bed while I retreated to the bathroom to write in peace, quiet, and cold. I don't have a beta, so feel free to point out any errors and I'll be sure to fix them. Also! I'm sure this isn't accurate to canon...It has been over 5 years since I saw this show in its entirety...I went off of vague memories because I don't have time to watch the whole show again.

A Father's Dreams

Companion to A Father's Love

I wake from the same nightmare at least once a week, and just sit afterwards, relishing that I'm alive, and that it was just a terrible, insubstantial dream. My mind turns to the dream, and examines it, trying to understand it in the hopes that it will go away.

Creatures disguising themselves as soldiers line the rooftops of the city. I'm surrounded by a pressing throng of people I've never met before. Sometimes while at the store, I look at the man walking past me and feel that I've seen them in the dream, but depress the thought quickly. Above us, spirits float, chanting in a blasphemous language, encased in an eerie unearthly glow. The sky above is the sickly grey-green of the most fearsome thunderclouds, making it impossible to tell time or direction.

Something is holding my mind, a great evil forcing me to walk calmly to my...what? My doom? Time is skipped; suddenly there is a courtyard ringed by tall, thin towers and filled by many more spirits, flying and screeching and chanting so that I feel I'd rather die than have to hear it any longer. Five points of light suddenly burst from the towers: red, orange, blue, green and a dark blue, all shooting into the heavens. The spirits seem to feel triumphant, and my heart is pained. All this time, we are still walking, endlessly floating towards our unknown destination.

The five lights disappear, the spirits give one final unholy yell, and the dream skips again. This time it's real, a memory. My son is missing...It has been months since I last laid eyes on him, and he's not with his mother. The fruitless search for him tears at my heart, and it nearly destroys me when it is called off. The worse part is...I can't remember exactly when he went missing, as though I didn't even notice it happening. Finally, I wake and, having played through all my thoughts, walk to his room. I left it the way it was, but with one addition. I found a lamp that came with a special cover that throws all of the Earth's constellations into relief on his walls. I flick it on, lay down upon the floor and slip back into dreams.

I'm in my lab, working half-heartedly on my latest project when it happens. Hearing a door close upstairs, I walk to the door and grab the baseball bat, nearly grateful for an opportunity to escape my pretense of working. I creep up the stairs, listening to the intruder make their way through my home. Something cloth hits the floor, footsteps, the fridge opens and closes. The footsteps come towards me and I leap out of the stairwell into the hall. My mind freezes, my heart leaps into my throat and I hear myself stutter, "N...no..." Allowing the bat to slip from my numb fingers, I step forward and extend a hand before me. The apparition wraps his hand around my forearm in a brotherly clasp and I pull him forward, tears spilling from my eyes.

It's many long minutes before I can pull myself together enough to pull away and stare at him in wonder. My baby boy's come back to me. I drink in all the little differences: he has a few new small scars, his hair is longer, he no longer wears a carefree smile. His eyes, older than they should have been before, were now the eyes of a soldier, a man that life has been sorely unkind to, eyes that are ageless and hold all the wisdom and pain of the world.

"How? When? Where have you...?" I cut myself off, hearing an odd noise from from somewhere in the house. A gentle clanging, almost like that of a Buddhist's staff hitting the floor, sending the rings spinning. My eyes refocus on my son's face.

"Rowen! Welcome home! How was your day at school? Let's go talk in the kitchen." I clap him on the back, and smiling, make my way into the kitchen to bustle around and make us some sandwiches. Noting the soured food in the fridge, I turn back to Rowen and scratch my head, holding a sheepish grin on my face.

"I've been lax with my shopping, it seems. How about we go out to eat tonight, instead?" He smiles at me and nods. "Just have to grab my keys and change out of this lab coat. I'll be right back." I tramp off down the stairs, humming a tune to myself and missing the grateful expression Rowen sends towards the heavens.

I wake from the nightmare, at least once a week, and sit, unmoving and contemplating its meaning in the hopes that it will just go away. Demons and spirits, towers and light, and finally...The worst of all, the idea of my son gone never to be seen again. After mulling until my mind is satisfied, I decide to settle my heart and walk to Rowen's room. Quietly I open the door, to see his silent sleeping form on the bed, the lamp I bought for him...When? The lamp I bought for him throwing stars onto the vast depths of his walls.

Silly dreams, trying to fool an old man into believing ghost stories and fairy tales.

End.


End file.
